


Of the Two Tribes

by Glaurung_II



Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glaurung_II/pseuds/Glaurung_II
Summary: Backstory for Caius Ballad's parents. Heavily inspired by the Skyrim in-game book "Of Fjori and Holgeir".
Kudos: 1





	Of the Two Tribes

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very old writing I had stored in my hard drive. Part of the mythos of a larger story which finally never saw the day of light.

In the time of the old Fathers, when we humans still lived in Pulse and the rift hadn't come to fruition, when the Seeress was the child-queen of Padra and hadn't veiled her pious face yet, chieftains waged wars upon each other and shamans spoke with the sacred fal'Cies to have their blessings before each combat.

Two tribes in the South met for the first time and they fought each other, though their motives have been lost in the mists of time, for what would follow would outshine everything that came after.

The two chieftains met in single combat: Faolan, known as the Black Wolf, he who had tamed such a beast as a young lad and rode it when he marched into battle; and Glavia, the maiden-warrior who had bested all men on her tribe and led them on the hunt.

Faolan's sword carried the strength of Titan with each blow, but Glavia's feet had been blessed by Pulse's winds. As the ground around them caved and quaked and the two tribes watched in silence, both Faolan and Glavia realized that the two of them were equal and, casting away their battle masks, they agreed to a truce.

But Faolan's heart felt heavy and, upon returning to his village and to his tent, he meditated, and in silence he brooded.

For the maiden-warrior's bravery and fairness had moved him, and in his breast love had taken deep roots, and he despaired.

"What should I do?" he asked the shaman. "I wouldn't slay such an extraordinary creature even if I could, yet the truce I offered seemed to give me no peace."

"Why do you seek in me an answer that lies within you?" the shaman answered. "But, alas! She's no normal maiden that you could woo and then send to weave and give you sons and daughters. She's bound to seek in a man far more than what any other woman would, for she can do what both would."

"She can't have children on her own!" Faolan exclaimed.

"She could have any man she wished and then send him on his way without even remembering his face," the shaman corrected him. "You can't grasp the wind no more than you could tame the likes of her."

"But I do not wish to tame her. I want her as my companion. I want to hunt with her, to march into battle with her at my side. A chieftain can have as many servants as he wants, but only one true companion."

"Do as you wish," said the shaman. "But your men won't see her as do you. Leave her be, leave her to her own designs, and you will have an everlasting peace."

Faolan said nothing to the shaman, but remembered his words. He knew his men well, and he knew that mingling the two tribes was not something they would be glad about.

Even so, he sought her trail through the forest not too long after the duel and found her near a pond by herself. Her countenance wasn't friendly, but she didn't touch the sword on her belt when she saw him.

For a moment he was without words. Even alone in a forest she carried herself as if a whole army was behind her, a true queen of the tribes, if there was ever one. Faolan's love for her burned more than ever and, taking his own blade and his bow, he knelt and laid them at her feet.

"I lay my weapons at your feet, o fair maiden, as a token of my love and loyalty to you. I ask that you be my wife, that you fight at my side and be my companion in the hunt. Let me be your shield in times of need, and your sword before our enemies."

But Glavia gazed at him silently, her cheeks drained of color, and when she spoke her voice almost faltered with hardly restrained rage.

"You speak of love, Black Wolf," she said, using his battle name. "But what I heard is this: I can't best you in combat, come then, let me bed you and chain you to my tent, where I can feed you from my own hand, where you will weave for me, tan the skins of the beast I slay with my men and give me strong sons and beautiful daughters.

"You are not the first one to try and take me away from my tribe, but you will be the only one I let live to tell it, for the sake of our truce. But do not mistake my kindness for weakness. Go away now and never come to me in such terms ever again, lest I slay you and say you attacked me first."

Faolan was on his feet, his weapons drawn, but when he met Glavia's eyes his fury disappeared and, without a word, he returned to his people.

For a time, Glavia's tribe hunted in another land and neither saw each other again. It seemed now to Faolan that his infatuation had only been the whim of a too impetuous soul, and he decided he wished nothing more than hunting with his wolf and his warriors.

But it came a day, after the migration of the Long Guis, when one of his hunting parties returned to the village with dire news.

Glavia had been betrayed during a duel with a rival clansman and poisoned. The clansman had been executed as punishment, according to the tribe's laws, but Glavia had fallen in a deep sleep as if she was already dead, and their shaman could do nothing but prolong that state as much as it was possible through enchantments.

"They are going to send some men to the Devil Tower to search for a cure," the man who brought the news told him. "But I fear it would be for naught, for the fal'Cie who now dwells there never talks to any human."

Faolan took his sword and arrow and saddled his wolf, and parted to where Glavia's tribe was, to find her as he had been told.

Pale she was under the canopy the village's women had woven for her of a deep crimson, the color of blood, reserved for those warriors who had been slain in battle. She was clad in her armor, the mask at her side, her sword between the clasped hands and her shield at her feet.

So still she was it seemed as if Etro had welcomed her soul already, and so it appeared to Faolan who, kneeling at her feet, he remembered the love he had harbored for her, and he promised he would fight fate, and bargain his soul to the fal'Cie if needed, if only to see her open her eyes again.

"Even if I am destined to never have your heart," he said to himself. "I will save you, my fair maiden, for Pulse has never known a braver soul."

Glavia's men were outside, preparing themselves for the travel, when Faolan went to them and told them to let him go along.

They didn't wish to anger a chieftain, and so the most gifted in the way of words among them started to speak, but Faolan raised his hand, silencing him.

"I won't come along as a chieftain," he said. "But as a warrior at Glavia's service, and no man nor woman will call me by my name, nor will I be a chieftain again until we come back with the cure for fair Glavia."

And he took his mask off and the vestments which marked him as a chieftain, and left himself clad as the basest warrior. He sent everything with his wolf back to his village, knowing that his shaman would know its meaning.

Glavia's men saw the sacrifice he was willing to undergo, and no one said anything against him going with them, but welcomed him as another warrior.

Far they had to travel to the Demon Tower, and many were the perils they had to face, but Faolan, bereft of being a chieftain and the hunt leader only in name, fought bravely, and many times his companions stepped aside, for Faolan's fury was terrible and unrelenting his sword.

But of what happened inside the Demon Tower no one can say anything, for none of the warriors would say a word and, if asked, they would grow pale and refuse to talk. They would speak, however, of Faolan's bravery and fierceness, of how he never gave a single order, but followed their lead as another warrior would.

Glavia's shaman used the elixir brought by the men and she opened her eyes, weary for the many days unable to move, and unbeknownst of what had happened.

It was the leader of the searchers who told her about what had happened and about what the Black Wolf had done for them. Still clad in her regalia, Glavia stumbled out of her tent, but only to find that Faolan had gone back to his people, despite the other warrior's pleads to stay.

It was the turn for Glavia to brood in silence, for the Black Wolf's deeds filled her with doubt and astonishment, and so, when she wasn't out in a hunt, she roamed the forests in solitude, trying to still the unrest in her heart.

And so winter came, ending the hunting season, and all tribes huddled around their fires until the snow melted. Spring came at last, and her heart was still in turmoil, and her feet carried her where the wind went.

So enthralled she was on her own musings, that one morning she found herself by a pond, not knowing how she had arrived there. Her heart stopped when she lifted her eyes for, sitting by the shore and giving her his back, she could see Faolan, his wolf sleeping placidly at his side. Or so it seemed, for the beast raised his head on her direction and whined.

She made no movement then, knowing herself caught.

"I'm pleased to see my lady in good health," he said, neither turning nor moving from where he was seated.

Hearing his voice, after so long, made the question she had been mulling over rise to her lips.

"Why did you do it?"

"Did you travel so far away for such a simple question?"

"Don't jest at me! I told you to never come near me ever again."

"You said you did not want me to come to you in the same terms as the first time by this pond," he said, finally on his feet. "I came to your side as a warrior out of many."

When he turned around, she could see he was no longer the man she had dueled against, nor the one who had approached her. The pride which had repelled her so much was no more, and in his eyes she could see something akin to pain when he gazed briefly into hers.

The wolf was on its feet now, pacing slowly at her, its tail wagging amicably. Before Faolan could stop it with an order, Glavia had it sniffling her hands and then, when she dared to stroke its muzzle, the beast lay at her feet, tame as a cub.

"Is this what you intend to do with me?" she asked Faolan.

"He chose to stay with me," he said. "As soon as he was old enough to find a mate I set him free on the forest, but the following morning I woke to see him sleeping at my feet. It's loyalty what I prize above anything else, for it's harder to break than tempered steel. What use could I have for an alliance based on fear? One on which the oppressed ones' only desire is to overthrow their tyrant?"

Glavia said nothing for a long time. The gigantic beast, almost as big as a chocobo, still looked at her with patience. She knelt and stroked its fur, making the wolf growl in contentment.

 _Loyalty._ That was what she had seen on her men's eyes the moment anyone spoke about the Black Wolf, not because he was stronger than her, but because he had cast away his condition and his honors to help another tribe.

"You are a cunning one, Black Wolf," she laughed suddenly. "You said you wanted nothing, but you made away with a lock of my hair. You made your wolf accustomed to my scent."

He smiled then, and she saw how her features softened and, for the first time in her life, something in her heart stirred.

"I won't ask for your forgiveness," he said. "For it wouldn't be sincere. Were you cleave me where I stand I would never repent from wanting to have you near me, and almost succeed."

And in such a manner the Wind of the South, the Untamed Maiden, chose her companion, and the two tribes joined as one as their chieftains did, and peace reigned in those lands.

Even though all the sons and daughters of Faolan and Glavia were adept hunters and quick learners, it was the first-born, Kaelan, the one who surpassed them all, for he had inherited his father's strength and his mother's grace.

But it came to pass that a new Seeress was to be crowned in Padra when Kaelan neared his hunting age. All tribes went to pay their respects to the new Child-Queen, and that time Kaelan accompanied his parents, for he was too young when the last crowning happened.

No tale from his parents would prepare him for the sight of Padra, of its stone edifices, of the endless roads which crisscrossed them and of the seemingly infinite amount of people crowding it like ants.

However, it was the sight of the Seeress what would erase everything from his mind, of what he had just seen, and of what he had known until that day. And the Child-Queen gazed into his eyes, and sun and shadow seemed to pass over her soft features.

There had been a vision she had seen long ago, though she had never revealed it to anyone. She had kept it close to her heart, along with the face of the one who appeared in it, for she knew they would be bound to each other beyond Time itself.

"Kaelan, son of the Black Wolf, son of the Wind of the South," she greeted him after addressing his parents. "Tell me, what brings a young warrior like you to Padra? The time has yet to come for you to be a chieftain."

Kaelan, suddenly fearing to appear coarse, bent his knee once more, and he spoke.

"I came to see the marvels of Padra," he said. "But no tale would prepare me for the majesty of my lady."

Some warriors shook their heads, and some others laughed at the uncouth youth, newly arrived from the wild, but the Seeress raised her hand and the court was silent.

"Your heart is true and your arm strong," she said. "But it may come to pass that not even that is enough to protect those you love. When you discover it you might seek more power, and your life might be filled with suffering and yearning because of it. Tell me, is it worth the price?"

All who were old enough held their breath, for no one remembered the Seeress bestowing a foretelling to anyone which wasn't one of her protectors. But Kaelan, blessed with youthful ignorance and courage, was the only one to speak.

"For those I love," he said, raising his eyes to hers. "No price is too high."

Like a stone thrown on tranquil waters, thus the choice of two young hearts would shape the destiny of countless souls, and even gods would see their plans thwarted and their ambitions crushed at the End of Time.

However, it came to pass that a powerful tribe appeared on the East, waging war upon every other tribe. Like a blight they descended upon the land, with machines and weapons the likes no one had ever seen before. It was said they were led by a powerful l'Cie, servant of an unknown fal'Cie whose purpose no one could discern.

The tribes to the North, led by Padra, could resist, but those unprotected by walls of stone were at the mercy of the conquerors, and even Faolan and Glavia decided to flee from the onslaught.

"We are hunters and warriors," they said. "But we can do nothing against an army."

But Kaelan, even of a taciturn nature, had the fire of youth burning with strength inside him. He took his bow and his spear one morning and went to the Demon Tower to see the fal'Cie who lived there, and ask for enough power to defend his land and his tribe from the invaders.

And a l'Cie he was made, and he hastened home, for when he had ascended to the Tower's summit he saw the smokes and the approaching army, but what he found was his village razed to the ground, and that no prisoners had been made.

With his own hands he buried his kith and kin. He took his father's sword and a piece of his mother's tunic and tied his hair with it, and he braided a string of beads for each of his younger brothers and sisters who had been slaughtered that day, a bead for each spring the children had seen, so that he would never forget his sins. Then, without looking back, he went North, to the city of Padra, which the invaders seemed to be circling.

The city was in an uproar, for the Seeress had foreseen the fall of her tribe and many had fallen prey to despair and, either took their lives or fled to the wild lands.

No one stopped the silent warrior when he approached the Seeress' dais, nor when he knelt before her and asked to become her Guardian.

"The law dictates that there can only be one guardian," she said. "My guardian is the strongest blade and has been blessed by the fal'Cie. Why would you risk your life, Kaelan?"

It was only then when he spoke for the first time since he buried his tribe.

"You call my name, my Queen," he said in a hoarse voice. "But that name means nothing, for it was bestowed by those I could not protect. I am a casteless warrior, with no tribe and no name, and I wish to lay my father's sword at your service, if only to atone for my sins."

But the Seeress Guardian, Caius, stepped forward and spoke.

"If you could not protect your own family," he said. "It's foolish of you to think that you could be charged with the Queen's protection."

The Seeress, who could already hear the steps of her Destiny approaching, intervened.

"If you wish to protect me," she said. "The law is absolute: You must prove your mettle in battle."

And so Caius and the Nameless Warrior dueled. If the Guardian was a seasoned warrior who had mastered his powers as a l'Cie, his opponent used all the rage and agony he harbored in his heart.

It was that very day that the invaders broke into the city. They had constructed, by means of magic and machines, many tunnels under the earth, and they had appeared in front of the gates, unbeknown to Padra inhabitants.

The duel was broken then, and both the Guardian and the Nameless Warrior joined forces without a word passing between them. Had the laws allowed more than one Guardian, the two of them would have been invincible.

However, the Guardian was nearly spent from the duel. Strong and vigorous as he was, age had already started to claim him, and he was slain.

Seeing the Guardian's broken body, the Nameless Warrior fell into despair and tapped into forbidden powers.

For the Eidolon who would accompany him was Bahamut the Dragon King, but his name he invoked, and he fused with it.

The invaders were no rival for him, and they either fled or were massacred. Thus he saved Padra from further destruction, though when he regained his own body his strength was spent and his soul about to be gathered by Etro.

The Seeress knew that this nameless warrior, this formerly impetuous young man, was to be her companion until the End of Time and beyond. She called forth her powers as a Seeress and bestowed him a new heart, the Heart of Etro, which would grant him eternal life.

But those who witnessed the miracle didn't utter a single word of joy, for Caius had been loved by those living in Padra, and this new Guardian had been transfixed upon his resurrection. A dark armor now covered his skin and his father's sword was now twisted and blackened, as if the darkness which had touched his soul reverberated within it, and the red eye of the Dragon King shone on it.

"No more blood will be spilled for me," the Seeress said.

And she casted away her crown, renouncing to her throne and her honors, and she veiled her face and went into the wild lands to live in seclusion with her Guardian, who shed away his name and had taken that of his last rival: Caius. And with time people would also call him Ballad, for the magnitude of his deeds surpassed any of his predecessors'.

Thus began a new era on which the Oracles were never used again, as Caius Ballad was tasked with remembering every word from her Seeress. But he was also condemned to see her every parting from this world, and to seek every new Seeress who would be born, and to teach her and grow to love her again.

And with each parting his despair grew, and darkness dug its claws even deeper into his soul, and in the end he would try to destroy Time itself and free his beloved Seeress from her shackles.

But another warrior would come, called forth by the Seeress' souls, and the path would be lain for Mankind to claim their freedom from the fal'Cie rule.

For the fal'Cie, those gods, omnipotent creatures who, nevertheless, had no soul, could not understand human hearts and the force which drove them, of why a man would tear the world apart for a single woman, or why another warrior would risk everything to bring back her beloved ones.


End file.
